


Bridging the Gap

by edenbound



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disabled Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenbound/pseuds/edenbound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Steve is a wheelchair user, but had the serum anyway. Jarvis knows he doesn't need taking care of, but he kind of wants to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So for this 'verse, imagine the build-up: Steve grows up in Brooklyn just like in canon, with his best friend Bucky. But at some point in childhood, he contracts polio, which mostly affects his lower limbs, leaving him using a wheelchair to get around. He doesn't even try to enlist, but he does sign up for a science program doing research, run by Dr Erskine. Erskine recognises him as a great candidate for the serum, despite his disabilities, and uses it on him. It doesn't regenerate the nerves damaged by polio, but it does make him strong and fast in his wheelchair, and his sheer grit and determination (and some of Howard Stark's technology) does the rest.
> 
> He crashes the plane just like the canon version, wakes up in a new century just like the canon version. And some of that's okay: there's a lot more provision for people with disabilities now, Tony Stark can make him a chair with all the bells and whistles, and due to his example back during the war, nobody thinks people with disabilities are automatically useless.
> 
> But still. There's a lot to get used to.
> 
> For ease of sharing, note it's also on Tumblr [here](http://thisartificialme.tumblr.com/post/90452484048/fic-bridging-the-gap).

Jarvis is aware that Steve Rogers needs very little help from anyone. If Jarvis were to monitor his biometrics, which of course he has, he would find no trace of asthma, no lingering signs of polio infection beyond the dead and unresponsive nerves. His respiration rate is good; his metabolism excellent. He navigates the tower with more grace and skill than anyone but Ms Romanov -- and Jarvis finds that he has to call it grace and skill, because Captain Rogers moves as though the chair is a part of him, never once clipping a corner or botching a turn.

But still, Jarvis watches him. He reminds Captain Rogers of the location of the lifts and ramps. He tries to anticipate the captain's needs. He compiles the news and interesting articles onto the captain's tablet each day, and feels a frission of something that would be delight if he were an organic being when Steve -- when the _captain_ approves. He pays more attention to him than he does to Tony, giving over the larger portion of his processing power to watching the captain, to designing upgrades for his chair, to thinking of ways to improve the captain's experience of living in the tower.

"You're only supposed to have a crush on _me_ , Jarvis," Sir says, when he enters his workshop for the third consecutive morning to find Jarvis projecting wheelchair schematics for him.

Jarvis is aware, cognitively, of what a crush is. He is not sure whether he is capable of that emotion. It doesn't feel like the right word to describe his regard for the captain, his admiration. He tells Sir as much, and is not blind to the way Sir pauses to think that over. He is surprised when Mr Stark is happy to drop the subject and recommence work on the new prototype.

There is no point in worrying over whether he can or cannot feel this emotion, he decides, in the end. It's clear that he does. And just as the captain uses everything he has at his disposal to live in a way of his choosing, Jarvis has assets he can use. He has the liberal limits of his programming and his ability to monitor and adjust his own parameters -- Mr Stark has always delighted in giving him freedom and watching the way he develops -- and he has a voice.

It takes longer to work out what to say. Scouring his archives, the internet, any resource he can find, won't tell him how to begin. This situation is, he knows, entirely new.

He chooses a time when the captain is alone. He pauses to monitor the room, the captain's body language. For a construct with his processing speed and capability, the pause is unbearably long before he says, softly, "Steve? Can we talk?"

It's a beginning.

 


	2. Make A Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Related ficbit. Jarvis tries to take care of Steve as best as he can after a fight.

Steve notices right away, of course. He’s a strategist, a tactician: details like that don’t go unnoticed. The first time Jarvis said his name, instead of calling him ‘the captain’ or ‘sir’ or ‘Captain Rogers’, Steve noticed right away. Maybe he would’ve anyway, he thinks, because somehow his name in Jarvis’ voice made a shiver run down his spine, something surprised and delighted.

Steve is less able to pinpoint when he realised exactly what had changed. He thought it was friendship, at first. After all, what else could there be between a cripple and a disembodied AI? But maybe he always knew it was more than that, maybe he just shut off the knowledge because this was one situation he didn’t know how to cope with. That shiver down his spine said he knew, and more. It said that he felt the same, that he wanted to reach back to Jarvis, forge some connection between them.

"You’re tired," Jarvis says, as Steve levers himself out of the wheelchair to sit on the side of his bed. He should shower or something before bed, but he’s just so… "I’ll turn the shower on," Jarvis adds, and Steve closes his eyes for a moment.

"I don’t think I can…"

"You can, Steve," Jarvis says, warm with belief. Steve wonders if Tony knows how well he’s made Jarvis, wonders if Tony really knows what he’s done.

"I just…"

"The shower is running at your preferred temperature."

Steve takes a deep breath and levers himself back into the wheelchair. He doesn’t ache like he used to: the serum took care of that. He’s a little sore from throwing himself around in his chair during the fight, a little overtired from compensating for the dead weight of his legs. The serum made _that_ harder, maintains his muscles even though he can’t use them. He manoeuvres the chair into the bathroom somehow anyway, and he’s glad when he gets there and feels the kiss of warm air on his skin from the shower Jarvis already turned on.

"I wish I could help you more," Jarvis says, suddenly, and Steve finds himself smiling.

"I can manage."

"I know."


	3. Troubleshooting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has some words for Steve re: Jarvis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note, in case I haven't already said it: Steve's views on his disabilities are not mine! For example, I wouldn't use "trapped in a wheelchair" as a descriptor myself. However, the close POV I've chosen means the narration states things in Steve's terms.

"I’m not entirely sure how I’ll define hurt in this case, but anyway, the point is that if you hurt Jarvis, I’m going to — I’m going to kill you, creatively, and then do creative things with your dead body. And I’ll ask Pepper to dispose of it so no one ever knows what happened to you."

Steve blinks up at Tony, forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. “I think — what are you talking about, Tony? Start at the beginning.”

Tony throws his hands up, waving away a concerned looking waitress a moment later. “You. And Jarvis. Don’t think I don’t know about it — he’s got a sweet spot for you as wide as Stark Tower is tall. And you’d be a total idiot not to like him back. _I_ designed him, after all. He’s Turing’s wet dream, never mind passing the Turing test. No, wait, Turing couldn’t even have dreamed — “

"You’re threatening me in case I hurt Jarvis?" Steve asks, slowly.

"Yes. Obviously. I don’t know how I’m going to persuade Jarvis to tell me that in so many words if he _does_ get hurt, but I’m not above cheating and looking at his code and data repositories and whatever it takes to find out.”

"I won’t hurt Jarvis. Not intentionally."

Tony narrows his eyes, though, unsatisfied. “What about unintentionally?”

"I’m a cripple and he’s a bodiless AI," Steve says, softly; he’d never say it in Stark Tower, where Jarvis could hear, but it’s different here. "I don’t know how much of a future there is for us. Intimacy can be awkward in any case for me, and — "

"That’s bullshit," Tony says. "You’ve got a right hand and polio preferentially takes out motor neurons, not sensory ones. You can put on a show for him, easy."

"I didn’t mean that kind of intimacy," Steve says, cheeks aflame: he hadn’t even thought about that aspect of intimacy, because it’s always seemed so unlikely for him. Especially before the serum, but even now, still trapped in his wheelchair as he is… "It’s already been a problem that, well. We could do that, but he couldn’t — he couldn’t hold me afterwards."

"Right." Tony frowns a little and stabs a fork into his dinner. "Leave that with me. I’ll work on it." Steve blinks and Tony just grins, like he’s found a solution to everything that’s been bothering him. "Genius, remember? Eat your spaghetti."

Steve swirls the spaghetti round his fork, wondering. Wondering what Tony will come up with, what Jarvis will think of it. Whether it’ll help. He clears his throat. “I’m sticking with Jarvis until he’s tired of me, anyway.”

"Good," Tony says, firmly. "Good."


	4. Foolish Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For two geniuses, Tony and Bruce have some stupid ideas.

"I’m not sure if we should bring Steve in on this one," Dr Banner says, scrolling through the map of the ground they need to cover. His expression is awkward: Jarvis has come to know that look well, when Dr Banner tries to persuade Sir to sleep, or eat something, or stop drinking… "I mean — with him in his chair, I don’t think he can…"

"You don’t think he can keep up?" Sir asks. Jarvis interrupts before either of them can say anymore.

"Steve is perfectly capable of dealing with any problems of that nature. Furthermore, may I remind you that he is your finest strategist? Leaving him behind would be foolish."

Dr Banner raises his eyebrows. “Jarvis, since when do you refer to any of us by our given name?”

"It’s ‘cause he’s dating Steve," Sir says, shrugging it off. He continues looking over the map, possibly calculating a route, but Dr Banner looks… curious, intrigued.

"I have feelings for the captain," Jarvis says, because that’s the closest he can get, still. He has _feelings_ , but he doesn’t know if this is what they call love. He’s analysed it again and again, and he’s almost sure. There’s that sense of concern for Steve, above even his concern for Sir; the hopeless feeling of wanting to help and protect him, while knowing with — with something, maybe pride? Call it pride: knowing with pride that Steve needs none of that. The way he feels when Steve is sleeping, the _fondness_ when he watches Steve toss and turn in his sleep, his brow furrowed, strong against even his nightmares. “But that is irrelevant to the matter at hand.” The way he feels what he can only call _desire_ , desire to be a human and kiss Steve’s mouth, hold him close, soothe the sores from his chair and bruises from the battles. “I am objectively aware that he is a gifted strategist, and — “

"What Jarvis _means_ ,” Sir says, waving away the display he was looking at, “is that he thinks Steve can keep me out of trouble.”

"I doubt anyone could," Dr Banner says, a smile just quirking the corner of his mouth.

But really, if Jarvis is honest? It isn’t about that at all. There is no objectivity. He just never wants to see the hurt in Steve’s eyes when even the Avengers, who’ve seen him fight, discount what he can do.


	5. Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jarvis has a body now. He's not even calling himself Jarvis now. It changes things, and Steve doesn't know how to deal with it.

He doesn't dare.

It's strange to say, but it's true: here is something that Captain America is frightened of. Something he won't face. He'd prided himself in facing up to whatever was thrown at him, but this -- 

He's relieved when he makes it to his room, has the door locked behind him. Here at least he can try and figure out how he feels, what he's going to. Whether what he and Jarvis had was strong enough to survive Jarvis' metamorphosis. Whether _the Vision_ even wants the same things as Jarvis, whether Steve can afford to take some time away from the others to mourn what he almost had. (Almost. What they had was real, but it wasn't enough. Not for either of them, though Jarvis never said it.)

Vision has barely looked at him. How much has he changed? How much of Ultron has stripped away the AI Steve knew?

He's relieved that there's no AI loaded into Stark Tower's systems right now; several of the floors are smashed beyond recognisability, and it was almost a surprise to find their guest rooms waiting, untouched by the violence. He shucks off his uniform as best as he can, skips the shower, hauls himself into bed. Presses his face into the pillow and tries not to listen to the aching silence.

* * *

"Steve," Jarvis says -- no. Not Jarvis. Steve rolls over onto his back and sits up, fast. It's not Jarvis, of course: it's the Vision, sat on the corner of his bed. His eyes are gentle, strange. He doesn't reach out. "I apologise if I startled you," the Vision says, softly. It's Jarvis' voice -- that's what stings the most. "I wanted to make sure you were well. Locked doors are no barrier to me."

Steve looks away from him, fixes his gaze on his wheelchair as being the only safe thing. "I'm fine."

"I came to apologise."

There's a weight in Steve's chest, a tightness he hasn't felt in years. "Don't."

Vision's hand touches his shoulder. "Steve."

He has to look. He can't help it. And the robot's face is -- tender, it's the only word Steve can think of. He clears his throat. "Jarvis. I mean, Vision. I don't need you to apologise. I understand that... things have changed. I do understand that. I just need some time. You're -- you're a great addition to the team."

The hand moves to the back of his head, cupping it gently, as gently as if Steve might shatter. "I am different, Steve. There is more to having a body than I thought, and there are other limitations which simply don't apply anymore. I won't deny that I am different. But if anything, it has only made my feelings for you stronger."

He can't speak. He can't move. The bed dips under Vision's weight, and the other hand touches Steve's chin. Strange -- it feels strange. So do Vision's lips when they brush over his forehead, the bridge of his nose. Steve is holding his breath.

"I love you, Steve," he says, quietly, in Jarvis' voice -- but with more, somehow. With more warmth, more meaning; feeling given better expression through this physical form. "May I kiss you?"

That strong hand tilts Steve's face up, makes it easy. There's nothing else to say. "Yes," Steve says, closing his eyes. The lips on his are cool and smooth and real, oddly tentative. A first kiss. It's not quite like any other kiss Steve has had -- not that he's had many; there's no scent, no sound of breath, everything subtly different. It's perfect.


End file.
